


Above the Sounds

by WishingOnWhishaw



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Acceptance, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Parents, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Arguing, Body Dysphoria, Bonding, Clubbing, Denial of Feelings, Developing Relationship, Drama, Drama & Romance, Drinking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, First Meetings, Flirting, Getting Together, Implied/Referenced Sex, Light Angst, M/M, Multi, Other, Parenthood, Pining, Plot Twists, Pre-Relationship, Pregnancy, Queer Friendly, Swearing, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-02-07 16:10:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12844761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WishingOnWhishaw/pseuds/WishingOnWhishaw
Summary: Roman's been friends with Seth for years, but somehow, he's never actually met his infamous roommate, Dean. The one who likes to drink and smoke and, apparently, cause mayhem. When the two are finally introduced, Roman finds that Dean doesn't quite live up to his reputation. That doesn't stop the two of them from growing closer, dragging Seth along with them, and throwing everything into question.Can they work things out, or will it take a catalyst to shake them up and change everything for them to realise what they want?





	1. A Tumble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, hey! So, this is a thing. I realise the summary is kind of vague, that's deliberate, because I don't wanna give too much away yet. Think of this first chapter is as a prelude, just to establish the world and set things up. All the juicy stuff will come in chapter two. 
> 
> This fic was heavily inspired by a song, but I won't say what it is just yet because it'll spoil the surprise. So have that to look forward to!
> 
> Also! First fic in a new fandom, always a little nerve wracking. I'm still finding my feet with these guys, so feedback and constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated. Hope you enjoy!!

The first time Roman meets Dean, they’re both sober. Not that Roman makes a habit out of meeting people while he’s drunk, or getting drunk at all for that matter. What surprises Roman isn’t himself; it’s Dean’s sobriety that comes as a shock. He’s heard so many stories from Seth about his roommate, how crazy he can be and the antics he gets up to. Roman had even gotten the impression that alcohol wasn’t the only substance Seth’s roommate liked to dabble in. So, yeah, Roman will admit, that first meeting surprises him.  
  
They’re at Antonio’s place for some party Roman is pretty sure was called for the sake of it, rather than to actually celebrate something particular. He doesn’t mind, really. He likes the excuse to meet up, have a few drinks, socialise. Sometimes they even get a fun story or two out of a night like this, if there’s enough alcohol consumed. Roman’s making his way out of the kitchen with a beer when the door opens, and he finds himself smiling as he sees Seth coming inside. He waits a moment and doesn’t approach right away, allowing Antonio to play the good host and welcome his guest.  
  
It’s then that Roman realises Seth’s not alone. Behind him is a man who, honestly, seems like he’d rather be anywhere else right now. He doesn’t look like much, wearing jeans and a leather jacket over a plain grey T-shirt. His hair falls messily into his eyes—which have the dark circles under them—and there’s the faintest hint of stubble on his cheeks. He mumbles something when Antonio pulls him into a brief, welcoming hug. Roman’s so busy trying to subtly look at the man and work out who he is, he doesn’t realise Seth has spotted him until he starts walking over. Roman notes that Seth has to pull on the stranger’s sleeve to get him to follow.  
  
“Hey, man!” Roman greets, keeping his focus on Seth. The surly look on the other guy’s face makes him want to avoid eye contact, and gives the impression the stranger isn’t up for conversing anyway.  
  
“Roman!” Seth replies, smiling. “Was hoping you’d be here. I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”  
  
“Yeah, it’s been a while,” he chuckles lightly. Roman can feel the stranger’s eyes on him, but he tries to ignore it, to go on as normal. Seth, however, seems to notice, and as Roman’s about to ask a question, he’s interrupted.  
  
“Oh! I forgot, you guys haven’t actually met,” exclaims Seth. He takes a little step back, opening the conversation up to the stranger. “Dean, this is Roman. Roman, my roommate Dean.”  
  
“ _You’re_ Dean?” Roman can’t keep the surprise out of his voice. He’s not sure what he was expecting, exactly, but it certainly wasn’t this quiet, sullen dude who looked like he’d been dragged here against his will. Seth had always made him out to be a party animal. Dean, somehow, manages to deepen his scowl at Roman’s outburst.  
  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He demands, lifts his chin up defensively. He looks ready to punch Roman, and honestly, Roman wouldn’t put it past the guy.  
  
“Nothing, man,” Roman says quickly, trying to save the situation. The party’s only just getting started; the last thing Roman wants to do is start a fight in the middle of the living room. “Just heard a lot about you. Nice to have a face to put the name to.”  
  
Dean turns his scowl on Seth now, eyes narrowing.  
  
“What you told him?”  
  
“Jesus, Dean, not your life story or anything. Will you chill out? You’re my friend, I live with you, you just come up in conversation sometimes.” Dean huffs, doesn’t seem wholly convinced by the explanation. He does back down though, gives Roman another sceptic look over before standing in a way that’s not so confrontational. Roman takes a long drink from his beer, feeling like he needs another. Quickly.  
  
“Y’all wanna grab a drink?” He asks, doing his best to diffuse the tension. Seth nods and Dean grunts, so they move their little group to the kitchen, Roman finishing his drink off as they go.  
  
His second surprise of the night comes next. Roman goes to the fridge—which is filled almost exclusively with alcohol and soda—to grab two beers, turning around and offering them to the other men. Seth takes his but Dean hesitates.  
  
“Can you grab me a Coke there?” He says, ignoring the offered bottle and nodding over Roman’s shoulder at the open fridge. Roman blinks, looking between the drink in his hand and Dean’s face.  
  
“You don’t want a beer?” He asks, doing his best to keep the surprise out of his voice this time for fear of Dean snapping at him again.  
  
“Not drinking,” is all Dean offers in response. Roman’s brief moment of shock allows Dean to nudge his way past and grab the can from the fridge for himself. It takes so much of Roman’s self-control not to just stare with an open mouth. Did Seth have another friend called Dean? Had he recently moved out of the apartment and been replaced by this new guy? Because, based on the stories Roman had heard, this Dean seems like a completely different person to the one Seth had been living with.  
  
He looks to Seth for an explanation, catches a soft smile and the brief brush of Seth’s fingers against Dean’s elbow. Dean scowls. Roman’s confusion grows, but he decides against questioning anything for now, focusing instead on getting another drink down. He feels like he’s in for a long night  
  


* * *

  
  
The next couple of hours are, thankfully, uneventful. Roman stays with Seth for the most part. They catch up, talking about work and terrible dates, all the things that have gone on in their lives since they last saw one another. Dean keeps quiet, sipping on his cola and offering short responses when Roman or Seth try to include him in their conversation. Antonio drifts by every now and then, listens to a story, laughs along and makes sure everyone’s doing okay on drinks.  
  
Eventually Dean excuses himself to go to the bathroom, leaving Roman and Seth alone for a few minutes. Roman intends to make the most of it.  
  
“Is he okay?” He asks, keeping his voice low, eyes on Dean’s back as he heads away from them. Seth sighs heavily beside him.  
  
“He didn’t really wanna come out tonight.”  
  
“Oh really?” Roman replies sarcastically, his eyebrow arched. “Could’ve fooled me.” He waits a beat before his curiosity gets the better of him and he has to ask. “Why’s he here then?” Seth looks around like he’s making sure Dean isn’t within earshot before he answers.  
  
“I talked him into it. He’s been miserable all week, I thought it might do him some good, y’know, to get out for a few hours.”  
  
“I don’t think it’s working,” Roman says drily.  
  
“Yeah, no shit,” grumbles Seth. He rubs his eyes and takes a long drink from his bottle. “I just don’t know what else I can do for him.”  
  
“Why’s he need you to do anything? Seems like the guy can take care of himself.” Seth shakes his head.  
  
“He acts tough, but he’s soft really. No, I mean it,” he insists quickly, seeing the doubt on Roman’s face. Seth will blame the alcohol if anybody asks why he doesn’t let the issue go. Because there’s no reason to keep talking about Dean, to defend his roommate to Roman. “Really, he’s not as much of an asshole as he seems. He’s a nice guy. And he’s usually not this grumpy.”  
  
“Yeah, from all you’ve told me, I thought he’d be dancing on tables or something by now,” Roman admits. “What’s the deal?”  
  
“He’s—” Seth cuts himself off, and Roman looks up wondering if he’s seen Dean heading back over, but there’s no sign of him. Seth gets this look of concentration on his face, eyebrows pinched like he’s thinking deeply about what to say next. Roman waits for him to continue, and finds Seth’s vague: “He’s going through some stuff, man,” incredibly anticlimactic. Obviously Seth isn’t willing to divulge much about Dean’s personal life. That’s fair, Roman barely knows the guy, after all.  
  
“Well, maybe a beer or two will help him?” Roman suggests. “Take the edge off, y’know.”  
  
“Nope,” Seth says firmly, shaking his head. “Will not help. He’s not drinking.” It’s clear from Seth’s tone that there’s no discussion to be had over the matter, so Roman lets it go, doesn’t press further.  
  
It makes Roman wonder, however, what kind of stuff Dean could possibly be going through to get Seth all protective like this. Usually Seth is happy to just sit back and watch things unfold, has never been the ‘mom friend’ who gets overbearing with people. That’s always been Roman’s thing. And up until now, Seth had seemed fine with Dean’s habits, even the more self-destructive ones that involved illegal substances. When he talked about Dean to Roman, it was never with disdain or worry; he didn’t look down on his roommate for living the way he did. So why did Seth care so much all of a sudden?  
  
Unless Seth and Dean aren’t just roommates. Unless there’s more between them than Seth’s been letting on. Roman gives Seth this curious look, a small smile.  
  
“You seem real protective over this dude,” he notes, his tone light and teasing. Seth rolls his eyes.  
  
“It’s not like that,” Seth sighs, immediately sensing where Roman’s mind is at. Roman arches his eyebrows, the smile spreading on his face.  
  
“You sure?”  
  
“I’m sure. He… Dean, he has someone,” Seth nods a few times to himself. Roman searches Seth’s face for disappointment, but if he’s feeling any, then he hides it well. “But, y’know,” he adds after a few moments, waves the hand that isn’t holding his beer.  
  
“I don’t, man,” Roman laughs softly. Seth’s vague hand gesture doesn’t explain anything to him.  
  
“I’m just looking out for him. Being a friend.”  
  
“You happy with that? Just being a friend?”  
  
“Roman, I told you, he’s with someone.”  
  
“That ain’t what I asked.”  
  
“God, you’re insufferable,” Seth groans, rolls his eyes, pretending to be more annoyed than he feels. “I’m not secretly in love with my roommate, okay. Can we stop the interrogation?”  
  
Roman’s not completely convinced, but he doesn’t have much choice in the matter, as it turns out. Dean is pushing his way through the small crowd of drunken people on his way back to them, and they can’t exactly have this discussion in front of him.  
  
“If you say so,” Roman mutters with a teasing smirk, hiding it behind his bottle as Dean reappears at Seth’s side. Seth, ever the drama queen, huffs a sigh and shakes his head. Dean looks between them, eyebrows raised slightly at the apparent tension.  
  
“You two have a domestic or something while I was taking a piss?” He asks. And Roman can’t help himself, but he laughs, all sudden and joyous, bubbling out of him. He’s not even sure what he’s laughing at, if it’s amusement at the look of indignation on Seth’s face, or shock because this is the first time Dean’s spoken unprompted all night and _that’s_ what he comes out with.  
  
“What is it with you two!” Seth exclaims. “I’m not interested in either of you. Get your big heads out of your asses. God.”  
  
“All right, princess, calm down,” Dean says, but there’s still traces of a grin on his face. “I thought I was supposed to be the moody one here.” Roman’s not sure what that’s supposed to mean, nor does he understand the look Seth shoots Dean, but he doesn’t get a chance to ask. Seth is rolling his eyes, huffing again.  
  
“Whatever. You guys suck, I’m gonna go find someone who appreciates my company.”  
  
“Oh c’mon, Seth,” Dean groans, but Seth’s already leaving.  
  
“Have fun bonding or whatever,” he calls over his shoulder. “I’ll find you later.”  
  
And with that, Roman’s left alone with nothing but his beer and Dean for company. He’s not sure whether he finds this whole situation strange or amusing, looks to Dean, smiling in spite of his disbelief.  
  
“What was that all about?” Dean’s eyes snap back to Roman at the question, but he looks all closed off again. Roman’s sure Dean isn’t going to answer him, that he’s also about to walk off in a strop. But, to his surprise, the other man sighs and lets a smile tug at the corners of his lips.  
  
“Think he’s frustrated. Hasn’t got any in a while,” he says bluntly. There’s mischief dancing in his blue eyes, and Roman finds himself staring, a little stunned. Dean doesn’t seem to care about Roman’s shock, if anything it encourages him to keep talking. “Honestly, I’m kinda glad he’s gone. If he can find someone to give him a good fucking, they’ll be doing us both a favour.”  
  
Roman stares in disbelief, eyes wide and mouth agape for a moment before some sense returns. He closes his mouth and shakes his head slowly. This is more like the person he had been expecting Dean to be, but it’s such a sudden change in behaviour that it’s thrown him for a loop. It’s like someone flipped a switch and now Dean’s suddenly out of his shell, no longer wanting to kill Roman by staring daggers at him, and instead he’s joking like they’re best friends.  
  
“You keep tabs on him that closely?” Roman asks when he finds his voice again. Dean shrugs, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet.  
  
“Like he said, I live with him. Our walls ain’t that thick, and he ain’t that quiet. Even if he was, it’s not hard to tell. He gets all crabby like this when he doesn’t get laid. ‘S a nightmare.”  
  
Roman had always considered himself and Seth to be good friends, but he feels like he’s rapidly learned far too much information about the other man. He doesn’t need to be thinking about Seth all frustrated, doesn’t need to know that, apparently, Seth just gets moody when he’s desperate because he hasn’t been fucked for a while. Roman’s mouth suddenly feels dry, and he quickly drinks down the rest of his beer, trying to chase the feeling away.  
  
Dean is still watching him with that small grin and eyes that spell trouble. He’s giving Roman a knowing look, like he’s peered into his soul and discovered some deep secret. It makes Roman a little uneasy, and he wishes he hadn’t been so quick to finish his drink.  
  
“Let’s hope he hooks up with someone, then,” Roman says after far too long of a pause, but he has to fill the silence with something.  
  
“You want me to get him back over here?” Dean asks him with a smirk an a suggestive movement of his eyebrows. Another laugh is pulled from Roman’s chest at the mere thought of what Dean’s implying.  
  
“No man, I’m good,” he assures him.  
  
“Why?” Presses Dean, because apparently the guy has no regards for boundaries. He tilts his head, studying Roman. “Been there, done that? Or you don’t swing that way?”  
  
“Those my only two options?” Roman chuckles, genuine amusement lighting up his brown eyes. Dean’s strange, not in a bad way, just unlike anyone he’s ever met before. Roman’s not quite sure what to make of him, but he finds he doesn’t mind his company, is happy to stick around talking to him.  
  
“I said he was annoying, don’t mean he ain’t easy on the eyes. So, I figure either you can’t appreciate that ass, or you’ve already tapped it.” Roman shakes his head again, astounded by Dean’s blunt and upfront attitude.  
  
“I have not already tapped it,” Roman mutters, lifting his bottle to his lips and then realising there’s nothing left inside. He motions to the kitchen with it and starts heading off to grab himself another. Or two.  
  
“But you would?” Dean is following behind him, apparently not willing to drop the conversation. Maybe Roman should find something stronger than beer if they’re keeping this up.  
  
“Nah, man, I don’t think so.” Roman pulls open the fridge and surveys the contents, glad for a few seconds of respite where he doesn’t have to look at Dean and that damn smirk. Honestly, he’d never really thought of Seth in that way until tonight, and it’s strange to consider it. “Seth’s just a friend.”  
  
Roman pulls out two cans of coke, offering one to Dean and mixing the other in a plastic cup with a generous finger of vodka that he spots on the table and assumes is fair game.  
  
“Friends can fuck,” Dean protests as he cracks his own can open.  
  
“I guess. I don’t know,” sighs Roman, leaning back against the counter and furrowing his brows as he looks down into his drink. He doesn’t know how to explain himself to Dean, isn’t sure what reason he can give as to why nothing has ever happened between himself and Seth. He doesn’t know.  
  
Probably because Seth wasn’t interested. If he was, Roman feels like he would know. No, things have always just been platonic between them, and why change that? It seemed to be working fine for both of them. There was no need to rock the boat by even thinking about this stuff.  
  
“Ah fuck, please don’t tell me I’ve sparked some identity crisis,” Dean groans as he watches Roman, pokes him in the shin with his foot. “C’mon, I ain’t drinking and I can’t deal with watching you cling to your precious heterosexuality while I’m sober.”  
  
“Can’t cling to something that was never there, brother,” Roman shoots back, lifting his head again and playfully kicking his leg toward Dean with a grin. Dean’s smile widens a little at the gesture, and Roman hears Seth’s voice somewhere in the back of his head as they both laugh. ‘ _Have fun bonding or whatever.’_  
  
“So it’s a Seth thing, not an ‘I don’t fuck dudes’ thing,” Dean nods, looking like he’s just made a breakthrough, like he’s one step closer to solving some puzzle.  
  
“Man, why do you care so much about who I’m into?” Asks Roman, but he’s still smiling, keeps his tone light. He’s just curious, isn’t annoyed that Dean keeps needling him. He doesn’t really care about the slightly invasive questions, not when the alcohol is slowly starting to hit him, leaves him feeling loose and happy as it thrums through his veins.  
  
“Just trying to figure it all out, y’know. You got two good looking guys who hang out together, don’t get why you haven’t bumped nasties a couple times.”  
  
“Good looking, huh?” Roman repeats, eyebrows raised. Because it’s easier to question that than to keep talking about why he and Seth have never been a thing.  
  
“Like you haven’t heard that before,” Dean scoffs.  
  
“What’s that supposed to mean?”  
  
“Oh, come on,” he groans, gesturing up and down Roman’s body. “Look at you.”  
  
Roman looks down at himself, frowning softly. He doesn’t think he looks all that impressive. He hadn’t made a huge effort tonight, since they were just going to be in Antonio’s place with their friends. His hair is pulled back into a messy bun, and he’s just dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, with a hoodie pulled over the top. Not too dissimilar to how Dean himself is dressed.  
  
“I look like you do,” Roman thinks aloud, and now it’s Dean’s turn to laugh.  
  
“Yeah, in my dreams, big guy. You got a face like you could be a model, and that’s before I even get started on your broad shoulders and… Well, all that,” Dean settles for, waving his hand at Roman’s form again.  
  
“You sure it was Seth you were asking on behalf of earlier?” Roman teases lightly, trying to look smug, to make a joke out of this so Dean doesn’t pay too much attention to him, because Roman’s pretty sure he’s blushing with how hot his cheeks feel suddenly. Dean hums, surveying him again, and if Roman wasn’t blushing before he certainly is now, because the long looks make him feel like Dean is undressing him with his eyes.  
  
Roman wants nothing more than to gulp down the vodka in his cup to help him deal with it, but he feels frozen under Dean’s gaze. He doesn’t know why it’s making him so nervous. Maybe because he had been joking, but now it feels like Dean really is checking him out, like he’s considering it, and Roman is so not prepared for any of this.  
  
Finally Dean’s eyes travel slowly up Roman’s body to meet his gaze again, and he hums and affirmative to the question Roman’s almost forgotten he asked.  
  
“Yeah, I’m spoken for, man. Unfortunately.” Dean gives him an apologetic smile and shrugs his shoulders. Roman’s just about to ask if it’s unfortunate for him or unfortunate for Dean, when a loud whooping noise and a chorus of cheers from the living room catches their attention.  
  
Dean’s already turned around and heading for the doorway by the time Roman registers what’s happening, and his feet carry him on, following Dean to investigate the noise. Dean stops just the other side of the door frame, eyes surveying the room before he pumps his fist in glee. Roman follows his gaze, wondering what the hell Dean’s so happy about all of a sudden.  
  
It all makes sense when he looks to the couch, sees Seth pinned there with some guy in his lap. He has blond hair with a beard and tanned skin, and Roman doesn’t recognise him, but the dude’s got a hand in Seth’s hair and their mouths are moving together. Roman’s stomach feels a bit strange at the sight, but he blames the alcohol. It has to be the drink. He’s seen Seth kiss plenty of people before, and it’s never been a problem. It isn’t a problem now.  
  
“Alright, Sethie!” Dean cheers, clapping his hands and whooping along with some other members of the small audience the couple have attracted. Seth doesn’t pay attention, however, completely engaged in his activities. Dean groans after a few moments, shaking his head before turning to the side, his eyes on Roman’s face again. “Well. I’m gonna go take them home before they start fucking on Cesaro’s floor or some shit,” he says, jerking his thumb towards the couch. Roman wrinkles his nose up in disgust at the thought.  
  
“Give the guy some credit, he’s got more class than that.”  
  
“Like I said, big man, he’s desperate,” Dean shrugs, grinning wickedly. “I’ll see ya ‘round Roman.”  
  
And with that Dean’s gone, pushing his way past stumbling, drunken bodies to reach the couch. Roman watches him pry the guy gently away from Seth, and he laughs to himself as Dean matches the death glare he’s given for doing so. He can see lips moving, but the sound of the party makes it impossible to know what he’s saying from this far away.  
  
Eventually Dean gets the two off them up and pushes them toward the door, stopping to thank Antonio and say goodbye before they leave. Roman’s not sure why he’s still stood there watching him.  
  
He’s glad he is, however, because once Dean has ushered Seth and the other guy outside, he turns and catches Roman’s eye. They look at one another for a few moments until Dean raises his hand in a wave and offers him a smile that’s almost soft. Almost.  
  
Roman returns the smile, raises his cup in acknowledgement, and then that’s it. Dean’s outside and Roman’s left staring at the door until Antonio’s in his face, laughing and asking Roman about Seth and his roommate.  
  
Roman doesn’t think about either of them for the rest of the night. He doesn’t. At least, that’s what he’d say if anyone asked. It’d be a barefaced lie, but that’s what he’d say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if there are any mistakes, like I said, leave a comment with some feedback. if you wanna talk about this fic, or just yell about wrestling in general, shoot me a message [on tumblr](http://softkevinowens.tumblr.com)!


	2. Chances Are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I return with actual plot stuff!! Also, updates! First thing I need to mention is that I've added more tags to reflect what happens in this chapter. I maybe should've done some of them from the start, but I wanted the possibility of surprise. It's nothing that generally needs a content warning, but you can check if you're concerned, or just curious. But be warned that there's plot spoilers! You may also notice this is now going to be in four parts, simply because this second chapter turned into a beast as I was writing, so I've decided to split it in two.
> 
> And I think that's about everything actually! Enjoy the chapter and see y'all soon!

The second time they meet, one of them is not sober. Surprisingly, that person is Roman. He’s been out drinking all night, after Seth had convinced him to go clubbing. Roman usually doesn’t do clubs, would rather a few quiet drinks at a bar where the music isn’t deafening and you can actually hear people talking around you. But Seth had insisted, until Roman had eventually got sick of his whining and caved.  
  
Roman’s not used to it, all the drinks and shots and people, so by the time they stumble out at one o’clock in the morning, he’s ready to call a cab and go home. But Seth, once again, insists he needs to be more sociable.  
  
“Come on, we’re just going back to mine for a few more drinks. Nothing wild,” he pleads.  
  
“You called it a party like two minutes ago,” Roman counters.  
  
“Yeah, but like, a little party. You can’t go home. The night’s still young!”  
  
“I don’t know, Seth,” he sighs, swaying on his feet. The fresh air outside hitting him is making Roman realise he’s way more drunk than he had initially thought, and he’s sure he doesn’t need any more alcohol in him.  
  
“It’ll be fun, Ro. Even if you just have a couple more and crash on my couch. Save you getting a cab by yourself. C’mon,” Seth insists, taking Roman’s hand in his own and tugging him down the street to catch up with the rest of their group, who are already making their way to a minibus they’ve spotted at the taxi rank. Seth’s fingers between his own feel as firm as his voice had been, so Roman sighs, resigning himself to his fate for the night.  
  


* * *

 

He has all of one beer back at Seth’s apartment, and he doesn’t even finish that. Roman’s responsible enough to realise when he’s had too much to drink, and the last thing he wants is to pass out on Seth’s couch and wake up in his own vomit. He’d only have Seth’s bad influence to blame, but still. The guy doesn’t deserve that. He had just been trying to help Roman have a good time. It’s not like he’d been kidnapped and brought to Seth’s place completely against his will.  
  
Roman pulls himself up from the couch, feeling much better than he had when they’d left the club about an hour ago, but not sober by any means. He feels mellow and floaty, like there’s a delay between his brain and his limbs when he tells them to move as he makes his way towards the kitchen.  
  
There’s someone else in there but Roman doesn’t pay much attention, too focused on getting a glass and filling it with water without smashing or spilling anything to even see who it is. His world is narrowed down to his hands on the glass, focused like he’s performing brain surgery, but he’s just making sure he doesn’t overfill the cup. He jumps when he hears the microwave beeping, head snapping up, and it’s only then that he starts to take in his surroundings.  
  
Roman blinks for a few moments, the fog of alcohol clouding his brain until he realises who he’s looking at.  
  
Dean is stood in the kitchen. He looks tired and grumpy, taking one of those reheatable wheat bags out of the microwave. He’s dressed in worn sweatpants and a big, oversized T-shirt. It hangs off his shoulders, but doesn’t hide the huge swell of Dean’s stomach.  
  
As if he can feel Roman’s stare, Dean’s eyes dart over and narrow as they land on him. He looks for a moment like he’s ready to threaten Roman, but as soon as the anger comes upon his face, it fades again. Dean’s shoulders slump, like he’s trying to make himself look smaller.  
  
“What’re you looking at?” he grumbles, but his voice is soft and there’s no heat in it, no real malice. His eyes fall away, unable to hold Roman’s gaze. Dean sounds exhausted.  
  
“The zombie in front of me,” Roman tries to joke, hoping it’ll put Dean at ease. He doesn’t acknowledge the elephant in the room. The air between them feels tense and heavy enough already, and he hates it, hates feeling like he has to walk on eggshells around anyone. “You okay man?”  
  
“Back’s killing me,” Dean answers bluntly. “And y’know, there’s also this tiny human inside me that’s pressing on my bladder right now. Makes it kinda hard to be comfortable. Or get any sleep.”  
  
Apparently, Dean doesn’t share Roman’s trepidation. It seems like he’s not only acknowledging the elephant in the room, he’s bringing out the neon signs and marching band to draw all attention to it. That’s fine. Roman can deal with this. In fact, he thinks, this is better. He knows where they stand. No more walking on eggshells.  
  
Dean braves his face now. He lifts his head proudly and looks at Roman with a challenge in his eyes, like he’s waiting for an attack, daring Roman to make some sort of comment.  
  
“Does that help?” Is all Roman can think to ask, nodding at the heat pack in Dean’s hands. His head is swimming with other questions that his alcohol addled brain can’t process quickly enough, so that’ll have to do for now.  
  
It takes him a few moments to put all the pieces together so he can comprehend the situation, but that’s mostly due to the drink. Roman’s not a complete idiot, and he’s been in enough queer spaces to connect the dots. Not all men have penises and all that. He just wonders why Seth never mentioned anything, how this never slipped out. He wonders what crap Dean must have been through over the last few months to have made him so defensive.  
  
Dean laughs humourlessly, tossing the pack from one hand to the other. He looks a little more relaxed, almost like he’s relieved that Roman isn’t ridiculing him. It makes Roman sad to think that’s the behaviour Dean expects. Roman barely knows him, but he’s sure Dean deserves better.  
  
“Not really. Hasn’t been helping the cramps I’ve had all day. Makes the back ache a little more bearable though.”  
  
“That’s good at least,” Roman nods. He’s glad he’s not sober; it makes this whole conversation less awkward. Or at least, it makes him less able to worry about it if it is. “How long you got left?”  
  
“Just a few weeks,” Dean answers, shrugs one shoulder. He looks on edge again, eyeing Roman with suspicion. Roman gives him a little smile, but lets Dean look him over in silence. “You ain’t got a problem with it?” he asks finally.  
  
“None of my business, man,” replies Roman, his voice slow, easy.  
  
“That don’t stop most people sticking their nose in.”  
  
“Most people are dumbasses,” Roman counters. “Like I said, ain’t nothing to do with me. Your body and all that. Honestly, I think it’s pretty cool.” Dean laughs again, but it sounds more genuine this time.  
  
“You would _not_ be saying that if you were me right now,” he chuckles. “Can’t wait for the kid to get the hell out of me already. No offence,” he adds, rubbing his stomach a little. The action makes Roman smile, feeling like he’s getting a glimpse into something intimate and special.  
  
“They causing that much trouble?” Asks Roman, his voice soft, almost fond. Almost, but not quite. Because he isn’t fond of Dean. Not at all.  
  
“So much,” Dean groans. His hand still rests on his stomach as he speaks. “I’ve pretty much given up on trying to sleep through the night.” Roman looks sympathetic at that, and it’s not an expression Dean is used to seeing directed towards him. Except maybe on Seth, when he thinks Dean isn’t looking. Never on people he doesn’t know. It’s weird.  
  
“Can I do anything to help?” Asks Roman, after a few beats of silence. He isn’t sure why he asks, what he could possibly offer, but it feels like the right thing to say. And he’s not really thinking things through right now, in his semi-drunken state.  
  
“Not unless you got some magic touch that induces labour,” Dean jokes.  
  
“Well, I might do,” Roman plays along, grinning back. “I wouldn’t know.”  
  
Dean’s smiling at him, all dimples and tired eyes, lit up now with amusement. It feels nice for Dean to talk to someone who isn’t Seth, to not have to worry about what people think of him. So much of his pregnancy has been him shut up alone to avoid the judgemental stares, but there’s none of that with Roman. He makes Dean feel normal, and he’s thankful for that, hasn’t felt normal or comfortable like this in months. That, he supposes, is why he says:  
  
“C’mon then,” with a small smirk, motioning Roman over with a jerk of his head. “Give it a shot?” It isn’t meant to be a question, but Dean doubts himself at the last second and his voice rises up at the end, unsure. He realises it’s weird, asking someone you’ve only met once to touch you in this way.  
  
But Roman doesn’t seem to mind, sets his glass down on the counter and crosses the short distance between them until he’s standing in front of Dean. He looks between Dean’s face and his bump, hesitating.  
  
“You sure?”  
  
“Yeah. Ain’t gonna do me no harm,” Dean shrugs. Roman nods at that, and slowly, he lifts a hand, rests it lightly on the curve of Dean’s stomach. It feels weirdly intimate, he realises, being this close to someone, especially someone he barely knows. Roman gets the sense he’s intruding on something special, something not meant for him. Dean isn’t family, he’s barely a friend, yet here Roman is, inserting himself into his world, sharing this bond Dean has with his child. It makes his head swim.  
  
He can’t bring himself to look up from the bump, can’t look Dean in the eye because he knows that would be taking things too far, would strain this _thing_ between them more than Roman could bare. He stares at his hand instead, moments ticking by in silence.  
  
“Hey there,” Roman finds himself saying. And so much for not making things weird, but he can’t help it, feels like he needs to say something, to fill the silence. “Go easy on your Dad, okay?”  
  
Dean grins at that, and he feels a lump form in his throat, because Roman hadn’t hesitated to use that word. He’s here, hand on Dean’s pregnant stomach, and he still hadn’t been tempted, hadn’t called Dean a mother. It fills him with too many emotions; validation that he hadn’t realised he’d needed, relief that maybe people still see him for who he is. Dean curses his stupid pregnancy hormones, blames them for the way his eyes fill with tears. He moves his own hand, uses it to take Roman’s and places it higher up on his bump, pressing Roman’s palm down firmly.  
  
Roman’s head finally shoots up, and Dean laughs at the wide-eyed look he gets as the baby moves under their hands, turning and kicking at Dean’s insides, pushing back against the pressure.  
  
“Holy shit,” Roman breathes, full of awe. Dean laughs again, a few tears betraying him and rolling down his cheeks.  
  
“Guess they ain’t listening. Was worth a shot though,” he comments, still smiling. Roman’s hand strokes over Dean’s stomach in a way he hopes is comforting. All his worries about making things weird went right out the window the second Roman felt that baby move. Now he feels like he has to make the most of this, to cherish every moment because it feels sacred, getting to experience something like this when he knows he has no right to any of it.  
  
“You’re crying,” notes Roman, and he doesn’t need to whisper, but he’s afraid of raising his voice, for some reason. He looks down again, thumb rubbing small circles against Dean’s bump. “You making your Dad upset, huh, trouble?” He scolds gently.  
  
Dean’s chuckle is cut off by a groan of pain, and he does his best to hide his wince as he clutches at his back. Roman’s eyes shoot up again, alarmed now, and he takes his hand away like he’s been burned, worried he’s done something wrong.  
  
“Fuck,” Dean groans, eyes screwed shut as he tilts his head back.  
  
“Dean, you okay? Did I hurt you?”  
  
“Nah, you’re—God damn! Shit, you’re fine, don’t worry. S’just a cramp.”  
  
“A cramp?” Roman echoes. Dean nods his head, face still contorted in discomfort as he waves off Roman’s worried look.  
  
“Yeah, y’know. Braxton Hicks and shit. Fake contractions,” explains Dean. “Been getting ‘em all day.”  
  
“You wanna go sit down?” Roman asks, suddenly aware that he’s kept Dean on his feet for quite a while, which can’t be doing anything to help the ache in his back. Dean thinks for a second before nodding, letting out a slow breath.  
  
“Gonna go back to bed.” He pushes away from the counter, blinking his eyes open. Roman, suddenly remembering that he’s only here because Dean’s roommate is throwing an impromptu party in their apartment, nods his head.  
  
“Probably the best call,” he agrees. His hand reaches out on instinct, going to help Dean as he moves, but he catches himself at the last second and lets it fall limply to his side again. Dean can walk without Roman touching him, he’s sure. The movement doesn’t go unnoticed by Dean, however, and he smiles a little at Roman’s apparent concern.  
  
“Yeah, don’t think I’d be much fun in there,” Dean says with a nod toward the living room. “Nice seeing ya though, big man.”  
  
“Yeah, you too,” Roman replies, genuine. “Hope you can get some rest.”  
  
“Don’t count on it,” Dean sighs, hand back on his stomach, like it’s instinct for him to touch it whenever he thinks of the baby. Maybe it is. Roman wouldn’t know. “Go back in there and have fun. I’ll see ya ‘round.”  
  
“See ya,” Roman parrots, nods as he watches Dean turn and head into the hallway, slowly heading back to his room. He doesn’t say that he’d probably have more fun if he stayed talking with Dean. Even drunken Roman knows that’s a bit much. Comes across as desperate.  
  
Instead, he takes his water and goes back into the living room, resuming his position on the couch. There’s music playing now at a moderate level in the background. All his friends are strewn about the room in little groups, talking louder than is probably necessary, too drunk to realise they’re raising their voices. Roman thinks it’s probably a good thing that Dean can’t get to sleep, because they’d only wake him again anyway.  
  
He’s not sure how much time he spends sat there, sipping at his water. He falls into meaningless conversations from time to time, when someone new flops down onto the couch next to him. Roman’s laughing softly at Bayley as she tells him—possibly for the tenth time that night—that’s she’s really glad he came out with them, and that they should hang more often. Roman’s promise to be more sociable gets interrupted by the sound of a yell coming from somewhere. It’s loud enough to be heard over the music and talking, and the room goes still, listening with concern.  
  
They wait, a few people exchanging worried glances, until a few moments later, the sound can be heard again. It sounds like it’s coming from somewhere close by, within the apartment, and Roman’s on his feet before he understands what he’s doing.  
  
By the looks of things, Seth’s also put two and two together, since he’s ahead of Roman in getting to the hallway. Which is a good thing, Roman supposes, since Seth knows where he’s going. Where to find Dean.  
  
Seth stumbles into the door, doesn’t bother to knock before he opens it up, and Roman just catches himself on the doorframe to avoid colliding into his friend’s back.  
  
“What’s going on?” Seth demands, panic in his voice. “Dean? Are you okay?”  
  
“Hurts,” Dean answers in a strained voice. “Fuck, it hurts, it won’t stop hurting.” Seth rushes in then, giving Roman a view into Dean’s room. He sees Dean, leaning forward with a hand on his dresser and the other rubbing his stomach. It’s obvious he’s trying to downplay his discomfort, but the pain shows in the twist of his face.  
  
“Where? Tell me where.” The panic in Seth’s voice is rising, and his hands are hovering over Dean like he’s not sure if touching will help or make things worse.  
  
“Back. Stomach, God, Seth, it hurts,” says Dean, rubbing low on his tummy.  
  
“Alright. Okay,” Seth nods, taking a few deep breaths to try and calm himself down. “Alright, you need to see someone. I’ll drive you to the hospital.”  
  
“The hell you will,” Roman interjects. Two pairs of eyes dart over to him, finally aware he’s been lingering in the doorway. And it’s probably a good job he is too. Dean moans, the hand on the dresser clenching into a fist and his eyes screwing shut again as he’s hit with another surge of pain.  
  
“What’re you talking about? He needs a doctor.”  
  
“I know he does, but there’s no way you’re taking him to see one.” Seth frowns, glaring at Roman.  
  
“Says who? This has nothing to do with you anyway, man, why’re you even here?”  
  
“To keep an eye on your stupid ass, apparently,” Roman answers, doing his best to keep his voice calm, but it’s firm. “You’re not driving, Seth.”  
  
“And why not?” Challenges Seth. He’s all bratty arrogance, offended by someone attempting to boss him around, but Roman couldn’t care less about whether or not he’s annoying Seth right now. They have important things to be worrying about.  
  
“Because you were doing vodka shots with Corey like twenty minutes ago! I ain’t letting you take him anywhere.”  
  
“I’m fine, and I don’t need your permission, so why don’t you just back off, and keep your nose out of—”  
  
“Oh my god, shut up!” Dean yells suddenly. His eyes are still closed and his head is resting on his forearm, but his impatience is clear in his voice. “Both of you, shut the fuck up, or I swear, I’m gonna punch you into next week.”  
  
“It’s none of his damn business, Dean,” Seth tries to argue. “He shouldn’t be here, you don’t even know the guy.”  
  
“Don’t mean I wanna see the two of ‘em get killed because of you,” Roman fires back.  
  
“I’m not going to get anyone killed!”  
  
“Yeah, ‘cause you ain’t taking me,” Dean says, standing up fully and letting out a slow breath. He looks to Roman, still breathing heavily. “You drive?”  
  
“Dean! You can’t go with him,” protests Seth. “It’s—”  
  
“Nothing to do with him?” Dean cuts in again. “Well guess what? It ain’t nothing to do with you either, Seth, so back off. Can you drive?” He asks Roman again, sounds more sure of himself now. Roman nods.  
  
“Why are you okay with _him_ taking you? He’s been out all night too, he’s been drinking!” Argues Seth.  
  
“Yeah, water,” Dean says. “He’s a safer bet than you.”  
  
“Dean, just let me help.”  
  
“You wanna help? Grab my hospital bag and shut up. I’m going with Roman. End of—motherfucker!”  
  
“Dean?” Seth cries, his hand flying to Dean’s waist, supporting him. Dean clings to Seth’s arm, groaning as another cramp shoots pain through his back and stomach. Roman steps a little further into the room, feeling compelled to help, to try and make things easier for Dean. He suddenly feels spectacularly out of place, however, and so he remains hovering next to them as Dean moans in pain and Seth does his best to comfort him.  
  
After all, Seth is right. This is nothing to do with Roman. It’s only the second time he’s even met Dean; he has no responsibility to him, no right to try and take care of someone he barely knows. He tells himself it must be some sort of parental instinct within him, making him so protective. That it’s nothing to do with Dean, really, Roman’s just trying to make sure the baby is safe.  
  
A question from earlier pushes to the front of his mind and suddenly it seems relevant, thoughts of Dean’s partner and their whereabouts. Roman can help there. He can be useful.  
  
“You need me to call anyone, Dean?” He asks, and Seth shoots him a look that he doesn’t understand in return. Dean takes a few more deep breaths, letting the pain subside before he shakes his head.  
  
“Nah, I’m good,” he answers, standing up straight again. He releases his death grip on Seth’s arm, asks, “Can you grab my bag for me?” Seth nods and leaves Dean’s side, heading over to the closet while Dean walks slowly toward Roman. He doesn’t question Dean’s answer, assumes maybe Dean’s other half is at work, that he doesn’t want to bother them. He’s not sure, but like Seth said, none of this is Roman’s business anyway.  
  
He settles for wrapping a hand around Dean’s waist as support, and thankfully it doesn’t come off as patronising, since Dean leans into the touch. A few moments later Seth joins them, holding the bag out, and Roman takes it from him before Dean can try to carry it himself.  
  
“You got your phone?” Seth asks Dean, who nods his head in response.  
  
“Got everything. I’ll let you know what’s going on when I find out, okay?”  
  
“Yeah make sure you do.”  
  
“I will. Don’t worry ‘bout me,” Dean smiles, pulls Seth into a one-armed hug. It’s awkward, with the bump between them, but Seth tries his best to wrap his arms around Dean, to squeeze him comfortingly. Roman can’t help but smile, seeing how much they clearly care for each other, and he’s glad, really. Happy they have each other. Seth pulls away after a few moments, pointing at Roman now.  
  
“You make sure he’s okay. Don’t let him do anything stupid. Make sure he calls me.”  
  
“You got it boss,” Roman says with a playful salute, shouldering Dean’s bag. “Ready?” Dean nods, holds on to Roman’s arm and starts leading them out of the apartment. Seth follows behind them, walking as far as the door to the hallway.  
  
“Keep me updated,” he says again, the worry clear in his voice. Dean turns and messes Seth’s hair up with a grin, amused by the concern.  
  
“We’ll be fine,” he assures. “Talk to you later. C’mon, big man,” Dean says, pulling Roman outside. Roman shoots Seth a smile and a small wave goodbye before walking away with Dean down the hall. Seth sighs and closes the door, reluctantly returning to the party he knows he’ll no longer enjoy. Not until he knows Dean’s okay.  
  


* * *

  
  
Dean’s pain gets progressively worse on the drive to the hospital. They’re not even half way there yet, but now every time a cramp hits him Dean can’t even try to hide how much it hurts. He sits in the passenger seat shouting and swearing, asking Roman why he can’t go faster, why he can’t make it stop, and it breaks Roman’s heart because he feels so useless.  
  
He does his best to stay calm, to stay focused on the road, but it’s getting increasingly difficult. The cramps seem to be coming more often, hurting for a longer time, and each time they hit, Dean shouts and cries and all Roman can do is tell him that it won’t be much longer, that they’ll get help, that Dean will be okay.  
  
The stress of Dean being in agony has helped to sober Roman up a lot, but he’s still buzzing slightly. Not enough that he feels out of control, but between the alcohol and the distraction of Dean, he has to keep fighting to keep the car straight. Thankfully Dean’s in too much pain to pay attention to Roman’s subpar driving anyway, and even so, it’s probably better than anything Seth would’ve managed.  
  
Dean’s hand had found Roman’s about five minutes into the car journey, and Roman knows every time a cramp strikes again, because Dean’s grip tightens fiercely. Barely a minute after he’d just relaxed Dean squeezes Roman’s hand again, and Roman squeezes back.  
  
“It’s okay, you’re gonna be okay, Dean,” he reassures, keeping his eyes ahead. Dean lets out a noise akin to a sob, shaking his head.  
  
“No. No, I can’t, it can’t, please. Fuck, please, not now,” he rambles.  
  
“You can, Dean, c’mon.”  
  
“It’s too early,” Dean hiccups, shaking his head. “It’s too early, I can’t.” That makes Roman frown, lost now as to what’s Dean’s talking about.  
  
“Too early for what?” He asks, voice steady.  
  
“Fuck. Waters, Roman, my waters just broke, but it’s too early, they can’t,” Dean explains quickly, practically hysterical. Roman’s eyes shoot over to him, trying to confirm what Dean is telling him. It’s a fruitless effort; the car is dark and the angle is all wrong and all Roman can see is Dean with his head back and tears rolling down his cheeks.  
  
“You sure?”  
  
“Yeah I’m fuckin sure!” Dean snaps. “You think I just pissed myself and can’t tell the difference or something? I’m—fuck! Oh my god,” he moans.  
  
“Another one?” Roman asks, rubbing his thumb over Dean’s hand in a futile attempt to soothe him. Dean grits his teeth and nods.  
  
“Contraction,” he breathes out. “They’re contractions. I’ve been having real contractions all day and I didn’t realise, god fucking dammit!” He yells, kicking at the dashboard of his car in frustration at himself. How could he be so stupid, why didn’t he realise what was happening to him. He’s an idiot and now he’s probably put his baby at risk because he was too dumb to realise he was going into labour.  
  
“Okay, Dean, just breathe,” Roman instructs, noticing that Dean’s now hyperventilating along with the crying. Honestly, Roman doesn’t know how he manages to keep it together himself, how he masks all the fear coursing through him. But he can see Dean is working himself up into a panic, and knows the last thing he needs is for both of them to be freaking out right now.  
  
“I know I need to breathe, Roman, I ain’t that stupid!”  
  
“Didn’t call you stupid,” Roman counters easily. Dean finds himself frustrated at Roman’s cool and collected demeanour, hates him and envies him because he isn’t panicking like Dean is. “Just saying, you gotta take it easy. Try and stay calm.”  
  
“Calm?” Dean echoes with a humourless laugh. “How the fuck am I supposed to stay calm, I’m in labour and we’re stuck in a fucking car.”  
  
“We won’t be much longer. I’ll get you to the hospital, you’re gonna be okay. But you gotta stop getting stressed, man, it won’t do you no good. You practiced, like, breathing exercises and shit?” He asks. Roman’s honestly clueless on pregnancy in general, let alone how to deal with someone in labour. But he does know a little about anxiety attacks, and figures the techniques can be transferred. Especially since Dean seems incredibly anxious right now.  
  
“Yeah,” Dean grits out. “Yeah, gotta take deep breaths. Said to take it slow.”  
  
“Okay, so let’s do that,” Roman says with a nod and another squeeze to Dean’s hand. He talks Dean through the breathing exercises, goes through the motions with him. Long breath in through the nose. Hold it. Out slowly through the mouth. Repeat.  
  
It does help to settle Dean’s nerves, and he finds after a few minutes of breathing deeply, he isn’t as frantic as he had been when his waters initially broke. He’s still scared about the thought of giving birth, worried about his baby coming early, but somehow it all feels less urgent now. He keeps reminding himself that labour is a long process, that they’ll have time to reach help. They’ll be okay.  
  
Roman keeps driving, but he refuses to put his foot down, to break any speed limits. Dean may need help, but Roman won’t be doing the three of them any favours if he goes too fast and ends up crashing. Thankfully Dean’s also stopped attacking him for the most part, has taken to just shouting curses or crying wordlessly when a contraction comes.  When he’s not screaming, Dean mutters to himself, stroking over his bump in a vain attempt to make the pain go away.  
  
“R-Roman?” He stutters out, gripping Roman’s hand once again.  
  
“I know, we won’t be much longer,” Roman answers, sympathetic.  
  
“Too long,” Dean says, shaking his head. “Too long, Ro, I gotta push,” he whines.  
  
“What?” Taking his eyes off the road, Roman looks over to Dean, finally sounds worried.  
  
“I gotta push, man.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! If you're still here and you don't hate me, thanks! hmu [on tumblr](http://softkevinowens.tumblr.com)!!!!
> 
> Feedback, as always, would be great and will be met with love and appreciation! Unless it's just a complaint about the direction I took the plot in, then I probably won't care, so save yourself the effort and don't write that comment!


	3. Into the World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back!!! Finally. Sorry this took a while. I got into some more detailed planning, and this AU is really getting away from me, so I've changed the the chapter count. Again. Not sure at this point how far I'll ride this train, I guess that depends on how much you guys wanna see! But for now, hope you enjoy this chapter!

Roman swears his heart stops when he hears Dean’s explanation. Push. Dean thinks he has to push. The low-level panic that had been coursing through Roman throughout the whole car ride is suddenly amped up, thrumming through him and threatening to take over.  
  
“You sure?” He asks, hoping he doesn’t sound as frantic as he feels. “How’d you know?”  
  
“I just know, okay!” Dean snaps. “I can’t explain it, I just, I can feel it. Need to push. Now.”  
  
“Okay, I’m pulling over,” Roman nods, his tone decisive. He’s thankful that a few miles back he got off the busy road they had been on, in an attempt to avoid traffic and get to their destination faster.  
  
“Don’t pull over! Speed up!” Dean tries to insist, panic filling his voice again.  
  
“Yeah, because driving like a maniac while you give birth next to me is a great idea,” Roman says sarcastically. “I’m pulling over, Dean.”  
  
 “No, please, Roman. I can’t, oh fuck, I can’t do this, how am I going to do this, I can’t have a baby.”  
  
“Deep breaths,” Roman instructs, pulling over and taking off his seatbelt. “You _can_ do this.” He knows Dean must be scared. Hell, inside Roman is having the biggest freak out of his life, and he doesn’t even have to do anything but be supportive. He can’t imagine how Dean must be feeling.  
  
“Get back in the car!” Dean screams, but Roman gets out, ignoring the command in favour of grabbing Dean’s bag from the back seat. “Keep going, I can wait.”  
  
“You can’t hold in a baby,” Roman counters. “And I can’t drive if you’re trying to get ‘em out beside me.” With that he shuts the door, slings Dean’s bag onto his shoulder and makes his way over to the passenger side. They’re pulled over on a dimly lit road, but it’s thankfully quiet, only the odd car passing them by, and not at any great speed. It’s safe as they’re going to get, Roman thinks. Not that they have much choice at this point.  
  
He opens the passenger side door, squatting down next to Dean and setting the bag beside him. It’s then Roman realises that he has no clue what he’s supposed to do now. His experience with labour is limited to the few things he’s seen on TV dramas, and something tells him most of that wasn’t an accurate depiction.  
  
“You comfortable?” He asks, figures Dean’s position is the first issue they should address.  
  
“No I’m not fucking comfortable! My body’s trying to push a small human out of me, and you want me to do to it in a car.”  
  
“We ain’t got another option, man, c’mon.”  
  
“I got another option for you. Get back in here and take me to a damn hospital.”  
  
“Not happening,” Roman shakes his head. “Look, I don’t wanna have to do this either, believe me. But if your body’s saying you gotta push, then you need to start pushing, Dean.”  
  
“But I don’t want to,” Dean sobs. Roman smiles sadly, puts his hand on Dean’s knee and squeezes.  
  
“You have to. That little one needs you to, and they ain’t gonna wait for much longer. Now c’mon. You comfortable?” He asks again in a soft voice.  
  
“No,” Dean whines, his shoulders slumped in defeat. He knows, despite all his worries, that Roman is right. He knows he needs to listen to his instincts, that it’s no good complaining or trying to deny it. His baby is ready now, even if Dean’s not, and there’s nothing he can do about that. “Wanna move.”  
  
Roman nods, putting his arms around Dean and lifting him up, out of the car and onto his feet. Dean moans, gripping Roman’s arms tightly as another contraction hits and the urge to bear down becomes nearly overwhelming.  
  
“On my knees,” Dean decides, trying to move back to the car, “Need to be on my knees.”  
  
“Alright, on your knees,” Roman nods, trusting Dean and whatever his body is telling him. “We can do that. Gotta get these off first though, dude,” he adds, hand at the waistband of Dean’s sweatpants. Dean whines, hiding his face in Roman’s arm.  
  
“You always this forward on the second date?” Dean tries to joke, an attempt to hide his own embarrassment. The reality of the situation is only now hitting him, and he feels incredibly self-conscious all of a sudden.  
  
He barely knows Roman, had only met him once before tonight, and now Roman’s about to see him in possibly the most vulnerable position of Dean’s life. He worries about his body at the best of times, is reluctant to do this with the people he trusts the most. But he can’t avoid it now, has to get his pants off in front of someone he could barely call a friend.  
  
“Only if I’m with someone real cute,” Roman jokes back, helping Dean to step out of his wet pants and underwear. The response makes Dean smile, helps put him a little more at ease. Roman is just as aware of how weird this is, how uncomfortable Dean must be with the whole thing. The fact he’s not in a place he feels safe, not with someone he trusts, Roman knows must be making the experience even more stressful than it would normally be. And labour seems plenty stressful enough all by itself. But there’s not much he can do change that, so he just has to make the best of a bad situation. He has to be as comforting and supportive for Dean as he possibly can, because Roman’s all he has right now.  
  
Dean slips out of his shoes, kicks his clothes from around his ankles and closes his eyes, tries to push away the feelings of shame and embarrassment threatening to rise. He feels so exposed and scared, out in the open like this. Roman seems to pick up on his emotions since he starts to rub Dean’s back, up and down his spine, trying to soothe him.  
  
“You’re okay,” he murmurs. “Don’t worry.”  
  
“Sorry,” Dean sniffles, rubbing at his wet eyes.  
  
“Don’t gotta apologise. You’re doing great. Ready to get back down there?”  
  
“Grab me a towel first? From my bag. For the seat.” Roman nods and rummages through Dean’s bag before he finds a small towel, putting it over the already damp seat in the car.  
  
“That okay?”  
  
“Yup,” Dean nods, “Great. Help me?”  
  
“You got it,” Roman complies, one hand under Dean’s arm and the other around his waist, supporting him and helping Dean lower himself back down into the car. He kneels on the seat, facing the wrong way so he can hold onto the back for support. “That better?”  
  
“Fuck, yeah, ’s better,” he answers, letting out a slow breath and looping his arms around the headrest. “Back doesn’t hurt so much like this.” Roman smiles and watches Dean get settled, glad he’s at least found some relief by changing his position.  
  
“You need to push now?”  
  
“Not yet. Next contraction.”  
  
“Right,” Roman nods. “I don’t really know anything about this stuff, man.”  
  
“Yeah, I figured,” Dean chuckles breathlessly, shifting his weight a little. “You’re doing fine though.”  
  
“Me?” It’s Roman’s turn to laugh now. “I ain’t doing anything, man, the hard work is all you.”  
  
“Just thought you would’ve freaked out by now. Ain’t every day you gotta deal with a dude in labour, y’know.”  
  
“Yeah, this ain’t what I pictured when Seth promised me a wild night tonight.”  
  
“He wasn’t wrong, though.”  
  
“Guess he wasn’t,” Roman smiles. “Hey, speaking of, you want me to call him?”  
  
“Fuck no,” Dean says quickly. “Last thing I need is his drunk ass coming out and trying to find us. I’ll call him later. He’ll get over it.”  
  
“What about an ambulance or something?” Roman asks, starting to worry as he realises he has no clue what to do when someone gives birth, or how to handle a new-born baby. Although he wants to, Roman doesn’t ask about Dean’s partner again.  From the look Seth had given him earlier and Dean not mentioning anything, Roman gets the impression Dean isn’t concerned about the baby’s other parent missing this. Whatever the hell that means.  
  
“Think we passed that point a long time ago,” Dean laughs. “Probably not worth it. Why, you starting to freak out now?”  
  
“A little,” Roman admits. "I really don’t know shit about babies, dude.”  
  
“We’ll figure it out. I went to a few birthing classes, so I’m practically an expert.” Roman breathes out a soft laugh.  
  
“Anything I need to know?” He asks.  
  
“Check the cord’s not around the neck, catch the baby, keep ‘em warm, and ignore all the abuse I shout at you.”  
  
“That’s really it, huh?”  
  
“Pretty much, yeah. S’not as complicated as everyone makes out,” Dean shrugs. “You’ll be fine.” Roman shakes his head, smiling again at Dean trying to comfort him, when they both know it should be the other way around.  
  
“I know _I’ll_ be fine, dumbass,” he says affectionately. Roman leans over, turning the light on and the heat up in the car up, since Dean said the baby needed to be warm. He sits back on his haunches, hand on Dean’s lower back. “Got everything you need?” Dean leans his head back, closes his eyes and runs through a mental checklist of important things.  
  
“Yeah, everything should be in the bag. Oh! Except water. There’s bottles in my trunk.” Roman nods, gets up and pats Dean on the shoulder before hurrying to the back of the car and returning a few moments later with four bottles of water. Just to be sure.  
  
Dean’s pulled himself up and is gripping the back of the seat again by the time Roman drops back down beside him. He’s taking short shallow breaths through his open mouth, eyebrows furrowed in pain again.  
  
“Contraction?” Asks Roman, and Dean just nods, too focused on his breathing to speak. Roman gives a sympathetic smile, starts rubbing at Dean’s back again. “You got this man,” he murmurs, and the encouragement brings tears to Dean’s eyes for a whole new reason.  
  
He knows this whole situation is weird. It’s made him feel helpless, out of control, and he hates it. Although he has to admit, he’s a little thankful to have Roman beside him, even if it’s strange. Of course, in an ideal world, the two of them wouldn’t be here like this, but part of Dean is glad that if he _had_ to do this with a stranger, that that stranger turned out to be Roman. Despite how sudden it’s all been, Roman’s been this strong but calm presence, doing his best to help Dean as much as he can, and Dean is so grateful for that.  
  
Roman keeps uttering quiet encouragements to him, the hand on Dean’s back soothing some of the ache away as his fingers dig gently into Dean’s skin. Dean gets the incredible need to push again, but this time he leans into it, bears down and goes silent with concentration for a few moments before he releases a drawn-out cry. He gets in another short push before his muscles ease up again, and Dean sinks down into a sitting position once more.  
  
“I can’t do this,” he complains, shaking his head. He feels exhausted and overwhelmed already, doesn’t know how he’s going to make it through even one more contraction, let alone however many else will come after.  
  
“Sure you can,” Roman counters, opening one of the bottles he’d fetched and holding it up to Dean’s mouth with a soft, “Here.” Dean parts his lips and lets Roman slowly tip the water in, waving a hand when he’s had enough.  
  
They repeat the same process for what feels like hours, at least to Dean. In reality it’s more like ten minutes, but each contraction seems to drag on forever, and then he barely has a few minutes to rest and take a drink before he has to pull himself up and start pushing again. Roman, to his credit, keeps trying to comfort Dean through the whole thing. But by now Dean’s patience is stretched thin, and he doesn’t want encouragement, he just wants his baby out so this can all be over.  
  
“That’s it Dean, c’mon, nearly there,” Roman says, hand resting on the small of Dean’s back as he pushes again for what he swears must be the millionth time.  
  
“You don’t know that!” He snaps. “God, shut up, stop saying that. You don’t know how long this takes!”  
  
“I know you’re doing a great job, and the kid ain’t exactly been taking things slow this whole time.”  
  
“Yeah, and whose fault is that?” Roman frowns a little at the question, doesn’t really know what Dean expects him to say.  
  
“Don’t think it’s nobody’s fault, man. They just wanna meet you.”  
  
“Oh fuck off!” Dean’s screaming now, hormones and pain and exhaustion all mixing together to make him a sensitive mess, and Roman’s the only one here that he can take it out on. “Nobody’s fault. Fucking magic hands over here. I was fine until you came along earlier.”  
  
“Thought you’d been getting cramps all day?” Roman asks, voice a little teasing. Which is a misstep, since it only serves to frustrate Dean even more.  
  
“This is a little more than a fucking cramp, Roman! I don’t know if you’ve ever had a cramp, but usually they don’t involve pushing a fucking person out of you!”  
  
Roman doesn’t get a chance to defend himself, as Dean cries out again when he stops biting his head off, so Roman just brushes the hair back off Dean’s sweaty forehead and smiles gently. The contraction passes and Dean goes limp again, panting and letting his arms flop down. He gets his breathing back under control and then lifts himself a little, Roman moving with him as support.  
  
“Another one? Already?” He questions, slightly concerned. Dean shakes his head.  
  
“Hold me?” He asks, and Roman nods. Without question he wraps one arm around Dean’s front and under his arm, the other hand on his hip. Dean shifts and winces a little, moving his hand between his legs.  
  
“What’re you doing?” Roman asks softly.  
  
“Feeling,” Dean answers, closes his eyes to avoid looking at Roman while he does this. They shoot back open a few moments later, and Dean lets out a small, breathless laugh.  
  
“What? What is it?” Roman asks quickly.  
  
“Head. I can feel the head.”  
  
“That’s good, right?”  
  
“Yeah. ‘S good. Means I’m nearly done.”  
  
“I told you you’re doing great!” Roman exclaims, beaming back at Dean, who just hums, still avoiding Roman’s eyes.  
  
“Need you to do great now, too.”  
  
“Okay. What do you need me to do?” Asks Roman, willing and eager to give Dean whatever it is he can to help. Dean sighs. He hates having to do this, but he knows he has to ask, knows he’ll be putting himself at risk if he doesn’t.  
  
“Watch?” Dean says with a slight wince. “For the head. I might not feel it, but I need to stop pushing when it’s out.”  
  
“Right,” Roman nods, shifting back slightly. “Do I just tell you when I see it?”  
  
“When you see it and it stays out,” Dean explains breathlessly. He starts shifting, trying to turn and face Roman, who lifts Dean gently when he realises what he has in mind, helping him twist around. Dean’s face scrunches and he puts his hand on Roman’s shoulders to steady himself as he rises to his knees with another contraction. Roman’s a little lower down, kneeling on the ground outside the car, but he smiles up at Dean.  
  
“Ready?” he asks, and Dean just nods in response, reluctantly taking his hands away so Roman can move to see between his legs. The thought makes Dean cringe, but he doesn’t have another option, so he steadies one arm on the seat back and shifts his knees further apart.  
  
Roman folds his legs under himself and leans down, and when he’s situated, he reaches up for Dean’s spare hand. Dean takes it without thinking and squeezes tightly as he starts pushing again. Roman can’t help the small intake of breath he takes out of shock when he sees the head of Dean’s baby start to emerge, but as Dean stops to breathe, it slips back in again. Roman uses the hand Dean isn’t clutching to stroke Dean’s knee, comforting and reassuring.  
  
“You’re doing so well, man. I can see ‘em, it’s nearly over,” he says softly, and this time it helps Dean, soothes him, because now Roman can actually see what’s happening. He knows that Dean doesn’t have much longer left. They’re not just empty words, they’re honest and truthful and Dean pushes again with a new determination. He lets Roman talk him through another two contractions, but on the third Dean lets out a sharp cry, squeezes Roman’s hand impossibly tighter.  
  
“Fuck!” He yells, feels a stinging pain shooting through him along with the ache of the contraction. “Roman, help, hurts,” Dean pants, panicking that something has torn.  
  
“That’s it! It’s the head,” Roman explains, squeezes Dean’s knee and moves back so he can smile up at him. “You did it, Dean! Stop pushing. Relax. It’s nearly over.”  
  
Dean lets out a sob of relief, overcome with emotion. It’s mostly joy that this whole ordeal is nearly finished, but there’s still worry there too, fears about his baby, if they’ll be okay. He forces himself to listen to Roman, however, concentrates on getting his muscles to relax. Dean goes almost limp, sitting back on his heels with his arm still propped feebly against the seat of the car. Roman strokes up Dean’s thigh a little, and the motion makes Dean sigh, his eyes slipping closed.  
  
“Keep watching,” he instructs tiredly.  
  
“I know,” Roman murmurs. “Check the cord. I’m on it, don’t worry.” And he is, he’s there ready and waiting to make sure Dean’s baby is okay as they come into the world.  
  
Dean focuses on his breathing again, remembering the technique Roman had showed him earlier and letting his contractions do their job. With the next wave Roman tells him the head is out fully, that there’s no cord around their neck, and Dean breathes another sigh of relief. The last thing he needs right now is for something else to go wrong. Roman struggles slightly to pull his gaze from the baby’s tiny head when Dean asks for a drink, but he manages to look away, to get a bottle of water and bring it up for Dean to drink.  
  
“You’re amazing,” Roman murmurs as Dean takes small sips from the bottle. It’s too much, probably, a step too far, but they’re both caught up in the moment and Roman can’t help but let his thoughts slip out. Dean smiles keeps drinking to avoid replying.  
  
With the next contraction he gives a few small pushes, and then that’s it, there’s a tiny, slippery baby sliding into Roman’s waiting hands, being dried off gently with a clean towel Roman had pulled from Dean’s bag.  
  
Dean holds his breath, fear and dread and panic all shooting through him, because his baby isn’t crying. He swears they’re meant to make noise immediately. Why aren’t they crying, he knew something would go wrong, why won’t they cry. His breath is coming in short gasps, heart hammering in his chest. Then a sharp scream pierces his ears as Roman rubs the baby’s back dry, and Dean’s sobbing again.  
  
“Bring ‘em here,” Dean says with as much authority as he can manage through his exhaustion and his tears. Roman nods, wrapping the towel around the baby and gently lifting them up into Dean’s arms.  
  
“You got a little girl,” Roman breathes as Dean takes her, lifts his shirt and holds her against the bare skin of his chest. He remembers hearing something about skin on skin contact being important, and so he moves the towel to just drape over her back.  
  
Dean sobs again as the baby tucks herself against him, and Roman finds his own eyes filling with tears as he watches the two of them, can’t even deny the fondness he feels at this point.  
  
“Hey there,” laughs Dean, tearful and tired, but so damn happy. Roman shifts away a little, lets Dean bond with his daughter as he rummages through Dean’s bag.  
  
Considering Dean wasn’t supposed to give birth for a few weeks yet, the bag gives the impression he’s actually more prepared for this than he’d let on. There’s clothes for both Dean and the baby, along with diapers, some little muslin cloths, the towels and blankets, and even a book and some snacks. Roman looks through the baby clothes and then returns to Dean, gently pressing a small hat against his arm.  
  
“Here. Make sure she’s nice and warm.” Dean nods, holding her away from him a little, bringing her closer to Roman.  
  
“Can you?” he asks gently, doesn’t want to let go of her. She’s so small; Dean just wants to keep her safe in his arms forever. Roman smiles and murmurs a soft,  
  
“Sure,” fitting the little top-knot hat onto the baby’s head. When he’s done, Dean brings the new-born close to him again, and she nuzzles back into his chest, still crying softly.  
  
“You’re okay, hey,” Dean coos. “Your dad’s here, I got you. Me and Ro, we’re gonna keep you safe, yeah?” Roman feels both flattered and floored that Dean included him in that assurance.  
  
Because Roman knows, despite how involved he feels right now, that he doesn’t fit into this picture. Sure, he feels connected to Dean and his baby, realises suddenly that he was the first person to hold her, and that makes something like pride and honour stir in him. But he thinks of Seth’s words once more. He’s nothing to them, not really. He just happened to be in the right place at the right time.  
  
“Say hi, Roman,” instructs Dean, pulling him from his thoughts. And Roman can’t help but grin as he leans up to look at the baby’s little face.  
  
“Hey, trouble,” he greets. “You sure got a strange idea of taking it easy.”  
  
“She’s a little rascal already, ain’t ya? Can’t say I’m all that surprised, though, if you’re gonna be anything like me.” The baby squirms and cries in Dean’s arms, pressing her tiny hand into Dean’s chest beside her face. Roman’s got a grin on his face that matches Dean’s as they watch her.  
  
“Guess she’s lucky she’s cute then. Bet you’re gonna wrap your Dad around your little finger, huh trouble?” Roman teases, picking up the loose towel that had fallen off her and replacing it with a clean blanket which he drapes over her back instead. He looks up to Dean then. “You know what you’re gonna call her?” He asks, realising he’s given her a nickname before Dean has given her a real one.  
  
“Hadn’t decided on anything yet,” Dean answers with a shake of his head. “Thought I’d have some more time to choose something.”  
  
“You still got some time,” Roman smiles, his hand stroking absently at Dean’s leg, drawing a hum from him.  
  
“Guess so. We’ll think of something, don’t worry,” he says, talking to the baby now. She settles down as Dean hugs and talks to her, until she’s no longer crying. Dean can feel her soft breaths against the skin of his chest and he can’t keep the smile off his face. It’s almost hard for him to believe that she’s real, that there’s a living breathing person on his chest and she’s all Dean’s. “I know you kinda rushed this whole being born thing,” he tells her. “But we can’t rush that, can we? Gotta think of the perfect name for you.”  
  
Roman chuckles but doesn’t say anything, just sits there and listens as Dean keeps talking to the baby. He speaks in a soft voice, telling her how she surprised him, how he hasn’t even put her crib together yet, but that they’re going to be okay. As Dean speaks, her eyelids flutter, face scrunched up like she’s about to cry again. Instead of screaming, however, she just keeps trying to move her eyes, until she blinks them open fully.  
  
“Hey there,” Dean breathes, somehow falling in love with her all over again as she looks around, pale blue eyes that can’t seem to stay fixed anywhere. Although she’s quiet, she’s by no means settled down completely. She still moves around, her lips parted, head turned into Dean’s chest and her arms and legs still flailing against him. Roman’s sure it’s the cutest thing he’ll ever see.  
  
“Wanna get going?” Roman asks softly, still a little worried about Dean. He won’t be happy until someone’s looked them both over, made sure everything’s okay with Dean and his little girl.  
  
“Not yet. Wanna have the afterbirth first.”  
  
“The what now?” Replies Roman, eyebrows raised. Dean chuckles at him.  
  
“I gotta, like, deliver the placenta too.”  
  
“Oh!” Roman exclaims. “Yeah, I’ve heard of that. Okay, we can wait,” he nods and settles back down. Dean lets out a small laugh, looking up from the baby to grin at Roman. He looks so tired and content, and Roman finds an urge rising, telling him to lean in, to kiss Dean’s sweat damp forehead. He ignores it, and settles just for smiling back at him.  
  
“Hard part’s over now, big man. Don’t worry,” Dean assures. He holds a hand out, beckoning Roman closer again. And, of course, Roman obliges, gets up off the floor and brushes Dean’s hair from his head because he’s right there and Roman’s not thinking straight right now. Thankfully Dean doesn’t seem to mind, smiles again softly and then looks back to his baby girl.  
  
They both watch her wriggle for a little while, nuzzling at Dean’s chest with her mouth opening and closing. After a few moments, something clicks in Dean’s head and he shifts her around, shushing her again.  
  
“God, I bet you’re hungry, right? That why you’re making a fuss?” He asks, moving her to the side and trying to help her latch on to his nipple. It takes a short while of Dean coaxing her and adjusting their position, but she gets there eventually, and Dean pets at her head when she does, tells her she’s clever.  
  
Roman watches the interaction with a quiet curiosity, though the smile never leaves his face.  
  
“Don’t think I got much for you, baby girl,” Dean murmurs apologetically. “But you can try.”  
  
“What makes you think that?” Roman asks, voice quiet, not wanting to disturb the moment.  
  
“Surgery,” answers Dean, not looking up from where his daughter is trying to feed. “They know it’s probably affected my milk supply but not how badly. You’ll have to find out for us,” he says, stroking his baby’s cheek with the back of his finger.  
  
“It’s cool you can still try though, right?”  
  
“Yeah. I didn’t think I’d want to, at first. But it’ll be good for her so,” Dean shrugs one shoulder. “I’m gonna give it a shot. I ain’t gonna be perfect at any of this, but I’m sure as hell gonna try.”  
  
“You’ll be a great dad,” Roman assures with a soft certainty. It makes Dean look up again, a faint smile on his face.  
  
“Y’think so?”  
  
“I know,” nods Roman. “I don’t know nothing about being a parent, but watching you two… I can already see you’d do anything for her. And I think that’s what matters.”  
  
“I wanna give her everything,” Dean admits. “Roman was right about you,” he goes on, looking to his daughter. “You are gonna have me ‘round your finger. Maybe I ain’t gonna be a perfect dad, but I’m gonna give you as much as I can, and I’m gonna love you so fucking much. I promise. Those people who said I’d never be anything,” he shakes his head. “They were wrong. I’m gonna be your Dad, and I’ll probably mess some shit up sometimes, but… you ain’t gonna have a shitty parent who don’t care about you. I can make sure of that.”  
  
Roman finds himself tearing up again, feels incredibly proud of Dean for all he’s done. He remembers the way Seth used to talk about Dean, the person he was before. Roman finds it hard to believe that’s the same guy sat in front of him now, holding a new-born baby and promising her the world. For Dean to turn his lifestyle around that much, to go through what must have been a tough pregnancy and come out of it with such a loving and committed attitude towards being a parent is admirable to say the least.  
  
“You got lucky with this one,” Roman tells the little girl. “Your Dad’s so strong, and he loves you like hell. Try and go easy on him for real from now on, yeah?”  
  
Dean smiles at the words but keeps his gaze on his daughter, now with fresh tears on his cheeks. For Roman to have so much faith in him means a lot, makes Dean a little less worried about walking the path that’s now ahead of him. It’s still scary as hell, but Dean thinks he can handle it. He has to handle it, because the little girl in his arms needs him.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> compulsory [tumblr plug,](http://http://softkevinowens.tumblr.com) because I always need people to yell about these guys with. yell with me. please.


	4. On The Ward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhhh man! Hey again! This wasn't meant to take so long, but I got swamped by assignments and then exams and life just got crazy. But here we go!! I'm trying to keep on top of a WIP for once by writing a chapter ahead, and so far that's going well for this thing. Here's hoping I can shorten the posting gap though. Anyway! Why am I keeping you even longer? Read on, and I hope you enjoy!!

Roman sits down with his second coffee in the last hour; a desperate attempt to stay awake as he rubs at his eyes tiredly. He pulls out his phone to check the time, slightly surprised that it’s only half past five. It’s been a long night. He puts the phone away again, ignoring all the text messages he’s received from Seth over the last few hours.  
  
Things had been hectic when they’d arrived at the hospital, nurses fussing over Dean and the baby, taking them away to check them over as a matter of urgency. They hadn’t had chance to talk about contacting anyone, and Roman doesn’t want to tell Seth what’s happened until Dean gives him the green light. And since Roman is neither the second parent nor Dean’s family, he wasn’t allowed to stay with him. So he’s been confined to the plastic chairs in the corridor until further notice.  
  
He reads the poster advertising a local parent and baby group for maybe the fifteenth time, when a voice comes from his right.  
  
“Roman?” He looks over to see a nurse smiling, and Roman’s on his feet before he thinks about it.  
  
“Yeah. Is he okay? Dean, is he okay? And the baby?”  
  
“Dean and baby are doing just great,” the nurse assures quickly, still with that friendly smile on her face. “They’re ready for visitors now if you want to come and see them?”  
  
Roman nods and is led away by the nurse, down a few more hallways and then into a room. It’s a little small, but not so much that it feels cramped. And, Roman supposes, it’s a lot better than a car.  
  
Dean is sat up in the bed, his baby against his chest again. She still has her hat on, but now she’s also swaddled in a blanket, her little arms no longer flailing about. Dean looks up at the sound of the door opening, giving a tired but soft smile.  
  
“You’re still here,” he says, pleasantly surprised. Roman scoffs as he heads over to the bed.  
  
“’Course I’m still here. You thought I’d take your car and leave you?”  
  
“You could’ve gone home, got some sleep. I wouldn’t have blamed you.”  
  
“Don’t be stupid, man,” Roman says fondly. He stops beside the bed, peering at the baby. “How’s she doing?”  
  
“She’s good. A little small ‘cause she came early, but she’s healthy and everything. They said it shouldn’t be anything to worry about.”  
  
“That’s great, Dean,” Roman enthuses, his grin widening as relief floods him. He’d been on edge waiting, not knowing how they were. And he’s glad Dean doesn’t have to deal with any more complications.  
  
“Yeah, she’s not so much hassle after all. For now, at least,” Dean smiles, bopping her little nose and then looking back to Roman. “You sticking around?”  
  
“If you want me to?” He answers, not wanting to intrude or overstay his welcome. He’s forced himself into Dean’s life enough already for one night, and he’d understand if Dean wanted him to leave now. Dean thinks for a moment, before nodding.  
  
“Pull up a seat, man,” he instructs, motioning with his head to the chair beside his bed. Roman sits dutifully, privately very glad that he gets to spend a little more time with Dean before this night ends and this weird connection they’ve developed is severed.  
  
“You expecting anyone else?” Roman asks, remembering all those texts from Seth and realising they should probably address that at some point.  
  
“Nah, this is it,” comes Dean’s reply. He looks down as he speaks, avoiding Roman’s gaze. Roman gives a soft sigh, and he can’t help but look at Dean with sadness in his heart, his suspicions from before confirmed. As if Dean hadn’t been through enough with his pregnancy and sudden birth, Roman now knows he also has to deal with being a single parent.  
  
“I thought you were with someone,” he thinks aloud, voice quiet, but not quiet enough that Dean doesn’t hear him. Roman regrets the words the moment they leave his mouth, knowing he shouldn’t stick his nose into Dean’s business. Dean heaves a heavy sigh, forces a smile.  
  
“I was,” he nods. “But…”  
  
“You don’t have to tell me,” Roman tries to assure him. Dean has let him see enough of his personal life already, he doesn’t have to tell Roman his life story too.  
  
“Nah, man, it’s fine. I owe you an explanation as to why the hell you ended up by my side through all this.” Roman doesn’t think Dean owes him anything.  
  
“If you’re okay with that,” he says with a shrug, wanting to give him another chance to back out. Dean goes quiet then, lips pursed as he thinks.  
  
“It wasn’t like an accident, y’know?” He says eventually, and winces a little. “I mean, we didn’t plan it, obviously, but he wasn’t just some random guy. We’d been dating for over a year.”  
  
“So what happened?”  
  
“Like I said, we didn’t plan this. Didn’t think it could happen, honestly, ‘cause I’d been on hormones and shit, but anyway. It did, and I told him, and I wasn’t sure if I was gonna…” Dean winces, thinking about his choice of words. “If I wanted to be pregnant, right?” Roman nods, understanding, and Dean goes on. “So he asked me if I was gonna go through with it and I didn’t know. Hadn’t thought that would ever be something I’d have to ask myself.”  
  
“What convinced you?” Roman asks, softly. He’s honestly curious, given Dean’s circumstances, why he did go through with all of this. It sounds incredibly tough, and Roman has a huge amount of respect for the man, for enduring the last nine months. Dean sighs, and it almost sounds sad.  
  
“I realised this might be my only chance to do this,” he answers, nodding at his baby. “And, yeah, I’d never planned on having kids, but the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to. And I realised this might be the only chance I get to do it myself, so,” he shrugs. “Here I am.”  
  
“Without your guy,” Roman says sympathetically, the rest of the story pretty much falling into place.  
  
“For a while I thought he was okay with it too,” Dean says, frowning again. “When I made up my mind, he stayed with me and didn’t try to talk me out of it or nothing. But he clearly just didn’t give a shit, man. Didn’t wanna come to any of my appointments with me, missed the first scan.”  
  
“Wait, for real?” Dean nods and Roman’s heart aches once more. He knows Dean probably doesn’t want his sympathy, but Roman can’t help it. Nobody deserves to do that alone. Especially not Dean, who probably struggled enough as is, being a pregnant man. He should have had someone by his side, supporting him in such a difficult time.  
  
“Yeah. That was the last straw. We got into this huge fight after that, and he basically told me I should be grateful that he was staying with me, even though he didn’t want anything to do with a kid in the first place, and man,” Dean pauses, forcing himself to take a few deep breaths, to calm down. He can feel his heart beating faster, getting angry just thinking about it, but he doesn’t want to. He’s done wasting time getting worked up over that asshole.  
  
Roman reaches out, squeezes Dean’s shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. It helps, a little. Brings Dean back to reality, reminds him to focus on the here and now.  
  
“I flipped out,” he continues. “I had a dad who was never there, who didn’t give a shit. It sucked. And then here he was, acting the same way? Nah. There’s no way in hell I was gonna put my kid through that. I told him if he didn’t wanna be a father he didn’t have to stay with me. So he walked out.”  
  
Roman’s shocked into silence at the abrupt end to Dean’s story. He can’t believe someone could just walk away from their responsibilities like that. Even if Dean had shown him the door, that doesn’t make walking through it okay.  
  
He understands Dean’s position of course, knows he was just thinking of his child’s future. Roman’s struck again by how much of a great parent Dean is going to be, putting his kid first, even it means making life ten times harder for Dean himself.  
  
“He left just like that?” Roman breathes, and Dean hears the pain in his voice, the disbelief.  
  
“Yup. I warned him I wouldn’t give him another chance, to change his mind. Especially not after they were born. Haven’t seen or heard from him since, so I guess he listened.”  
  
“Dean, I… I’m sorry,” Roman says, honestly. Because really, what else can he offer beside some sympathy?  
  
“Don’t be,” Dean shakes his head. He looks up to smile at Roman, a small but genuine smile which he then directs downward, to the baby in his arms. “We’ll be more than okay without him, trust me.”  
  
“Still,” sighs Roman, shaking his head. “You deserve better.”  
  
“I got better,” Dean insists. “I got her, and nobody to stop me giving her the best life I can. Yeah, he’s an asshole for leaving us. But honestly?” He shrugs one shoulder. “I think him taking off when he did is the best thing that could’ve happened in the long run. I don’t want her dealing with the same crap I had to go through. Kids pick up on little shit like that, and trust me, it fucks with your head knowing you’re not wanted. Now she won’t have that. She’s got a parent that loves her, and that’s what counts.”  
  
“I guess so,” Roman hums. And really, Dean’s point makes sense. It’s probably better for Dean to do this on his own from the start, than to drag a kid through a breakup, or have them deal with an absent father. Logically, Roman knows that. But he’s still pissed off, still can’t believe anyone would leave Dean to fight this battle all on his own. Roman has so much admiration for him. “You really are gonna be a great dad, man.”  
  
“Thanks, Ro,” Dean replies. All the frustrations have left him already, and Roman gets a genuine grin when Dean lifts his head to look at him again. “Not just for sayin’ that. For everything, I… I know it’s been a crazy night, but I’m glad I had you there. Even if it was super weird.”  
  
“I really didn’t do nothing special, dude. You’re the one who deserves all the credit.”  
  
“Bullshit,” Dean scoffs. “You were the one talking sense into me, keeping me calm. Made sure we were both safe. Just… Thank you. For helping instead of freaking out or leaving me to it.”  
  
“I’d never turn my back on someone who needed me,” Roman answers without thinking. Dean blinks, and they both hear the implication in Roman’s words. _I’m not like him. I would never walk out on you._  
  
Dean can’t deal with whatever the hell that means right now. He can’t think about Roman, how close he feels to the man after all they’ve gone through tonight. Dean’s tired and drained and he has a baby to be worried about now. His own feelings—whatever they may be—will have to wait to be dealt with later. If at all.  
  
A silence settles over them, and Roman wonders again if that was too much. He doesn’t know why, but when he’s around Dean he seems to lose his filter. Generally, he’s pretty good at keeping his cool, but with Dean, Roman finds himself blurting out the first thing that comes to mind, even if it’s not at all appropriate given the circumstances. But Roman’s tired, it’s been a long night. He’ll blame that for now.  
  
They sit sitting there, unspoken words, and desires not acted upon hanging between them. After a while, Dean finally breaks the spell by speaking up again, a thought occurring to him suddenly.  
  
“Oh hey!” He exclaims, looks up to Roman. “Do you have a camera phone?”  
  
“Yeah?” Roman answers, frowning in confusion. The question seems incredibly random, not to mention dated. He thought all phones these days had cameras. “Why?”  
  
“Can you take a picture?” Dean asks, nodding at the baby in his arms by way of explanation. “Seth was supposed to be on photography duty, but… Well, he ain’t here, and I feel like I’ll kick myself later if I don’t have pictures of her from today, y’know?”  
  
“No, man, of course,” Roman says, already pulling his phone out. “It’s a big moment. I get it.” Dean grins up at him and Roman snaps a picture as he does, Dean smiling, eyes alight despite how tired he is. He moves in to get a few more, some close ups of just the baby curled into Dean’s chest. As he pulls back to take another with Dean in the frame, he hears the door opening behind him, and Dean peers around Roman to see an unfamiliar nurse entering the room.  
  
“Hi Dean,” she greets, but she pauses when she sees Roman, phone still raised and the camera app open. “Oh! Here, do you want me to take a family photo? With all three of you?” She asks enthusiastically.  
  
“Oh no,” Roman starts to say, smiling politely. “That’s okay, we’re not—”  
  
“Yeah, sure,” Dean interrupts, speaking loudly so his voice carries over Roman’s. The response makes Roman’s heart skip and he looks at Dean questioningly, because why would he want photos of Roman? He’s not family, he’s not anything important. He doesn’t deserve to steal any more moments like this with Dean.  
  
“Why?” Roman breathes, loud enough for just Dean to hear, can’t stop himself from asking.  
  
“Like you said, it’s a big moment,” Dean shrugs. “You were here for it. I might wanna remember that too. C’mon,” he says, motioning Roman over with a jerk of his head.  
  
Roman smiles softly, following Dean’s direction and moving to perch on the edge of the bed beside him. He hands the phone off to the nurse, and then Dean’s using the arm that’s not holding his daughter to wrap around Roman’s waist, pulling him closer so they’re leaning against one another, Dean pressed into Roman’s side.  
  
“Smile!” The nurse instructs cheerfully. And Roman doesn’t need to be told, he’s already smiling, can’t help it, because this is a huge moment in Dean’s life and he’s got the privilege to share it with him. He gets to wrap an arm around Dean’s shoulders and pretend he belongs here, like this isn’t strange.  
  
The nurse holds Roman’s phone back out to him after she takes a few photos, and Roman leaves Dean’s side to take it back, thanking her as he does. He expects the whole illusion to shatter when he breaks contact with Dean, but this weird feeling of belonging is still there when Roman settles back into the chair beside the bed.  
  
He tunes out a little as Dean gets filled in on some medical information, how long they’ll keep him in, when baby will have to have her vaccines and come in for her check-ups, those sorts of things. When she’s finished giving Dean the information the nurse smiles and excuses herself, and it’s back to the two of them, alone again.  
  
“You can send the pictures to Seth when you have time,” Dean tells him. “I think he said something about wanting to print them out so I can actually look at them.”  
  
“I will,” Roman chuckles, gives a few nods. “Hey, do you wanna call him or something? Let him know what’s happened?” Dean looks over at the clock on the wall before he shakes his head.  
  
“Nah, not now. He’s probably in bed. He’ll only rush down here, and there ain’t no need for him to be here right now. Let him have his beauty sleep, I can call him later.”  
  
Roman nods in reply, opens his mouth to speak, but he ends up having to stifle a yawn behind his hand instead. The yawn doesn’t go unnoticed by Dean, who gives Roman an apologetic look.  
  
“Shit, dude, I’m sorry. It’s late as fuck. You can home if you want, get some sleep. We’ll be okay.” Roman shakes his head.  
  
“Nah, Dean. I told you, I ain’t leaving you here on your own. I’m fine.”  
  
“You’re barely awake,” Dean argues.  
  
“Probably not a good idea to drive then,” Roman says, and another yawn forces itself out, as if to prove his point. Thinking of sleep is making the events of the night catch up with him, making him realise how tired he is. But he meant it, he won’t leave Dean.  
  
“Fair,” Dean nods. “But if you’re staying here you gotta nap or I’m gonna get them to kick your ass out.” Roman chuckles at the threat and holds up his hands in surrender.  
  
“Okay, fine,” he laughs. “I’ll nap here. Wake me up if you need anything though, yeah?”  
  
“I’m getting to sleep myself man. Only thing I need right now is to chill. Giving birth is damn exhausting.”  
  
“Looked it,” Roman hums, giving up the fight to keep his eyes open and letting his lids drift closed.  
  
“Actually,” Dean says, making Roman’s eyes blink open again. “Could you put her down?” Dean nods at his daughter. “They said I should put her down if I wanna sleep.” Roman nods, gets to his feet and makes his way around the bed to take the baby from Dean’s arms.  
  
He’s stunned by how small she is, finds himself smiling at her cute little nose and her wrinkled face as Roman gently lays her down into the crib just besides Dean’s bed.  
  
“There you go,” he coos. “Let’s let your dad get some rest, yeah?” The baby shifts, and for a moment Roman thinks the movement has disturbed her. But, thankfully, her eyes stay closed and she doesn’t make a sound. She settles in to the crib and Roman lingers a moment, still stunned by how small, how fragile but beautiful she is.  
  
Dean smiles softly as he watches Roman put his daughter down, and then return to his chair besides Dean’s bed. Roman’s eyes fall shut again, the tiredness weighing heavy on him, and Dean thinks he has the right idea. Dean shifts to get comfy, lays his head back against the pillows and breathes out a tired sigh when he closes his eyes, too.  
  
As he lets the exhaustion consume him and pull him into sleep, Dean’s last conscious thought is that watching Roman put his little girl to sleep felt right, like something domestic Dean never thought he would have, but can see himself having now. He’s passed out before he has a chance to freak out over how much weight that idea carries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hit me up [on tumblr](http://http://ambrosedeans.tumblr.com), now with a new url! i'm always there to scream/cry over the shield lads !


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